


Visions

by astraldirectrix



Category: Bleach
Genre: Bloody Violence, Disturbing dreams a little kid should not be having, Drama, Dreams, F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Prologue to a greater work, Prophetic Dreams, Psychological Horror, Reincarnation, Tenuously T-rated, Trauma, everything will be ok, midnight musing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 12:39:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10386846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astraldirectrix/pseuds/astraldirectrix
Summary: While Ichigo Kurosaki muses about the love of his life, a little girl in the next room goes through terrifying dreams.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally, Silver and I planned to submit a multi-chapter epic tale for the IRBB event, but various issues in our lives resulted in it being delayed. Hopefully, we’ll be able to tell that tale soon – but in the meantime, think of this story as a prologue of sorts. Also, for the record, this is the first fanfic I have ever posted on the internet. With that, we hope you enjoy our story!

The moon hung high in the heavens tonight, luminous and beautiful as always. Adorning its grace were the clouds, colored in wisps of silver against a deep blue sky; the moonlight streamed in through the window, illuminating the darkness with a light sheen. His restless eyes peered upwards at the scenery.

As picturesque as it was, the moon’s luminescence only served to highlight how beautiful she was instead. The light fell onto her face and shoulders, enshrouding her with an almost ethereal glow, as if she was the moon incarnate. Her hair was the fabric of space; her pale skin, like the first snow of winter. She was not human; she was, first and foremost, a Shinigami, herald to the dead and absolver of lost souls. But to him, she was a literal angel; the rain within his soul disappeared in her light, and he was as clear as the night sky above him.

He smiled softly as he gazed upon her sleeping form. Certainly, this was the truth of his world.

 

* * *

 

 

In the next room over, the girl tossed and turned, groaning in her sleep. Clutched tightly in her grip was a little bunny doll, but it offered her no solace in the depths of the nightmares plaguing her mind.

This blackness was darkness, yet darkness wouldn’t choke the life out of her. What is this? She floated in the murky depths, sightless; the pressure of the surroundings threatened to crush her, like a snake winding around its prey. Was this spiritual pressure? Her head throbbed. The blackness _pulsed_ around her, like a living creature. The atmosphere felt cold, even slimy. She heard what sounded like burbling and rushing liquid. Blood? Oil? She could barely breathe or think, yet was trapped in her confusion.

Then the blackness rushed down like a waterfall, sweeping her in its tide. She screamed – but there was no sound. She tumbled down, flailing head over feet, aimlessly, senselessly, farther, farther – 

Then a light appeared and swallowed her whole.

 

She fell face-first into snow. It was soft, white and gleaming. It was her namesake – Yukihime. The air was cold but light, and she could breathe in it, as opposed to the suffocating blackness from before. Yukihime sat up and took in her surroundings. The land was covered in a sea of snow and glaciers of ice; the sky was dark and overcast, devoid of light. But not very far from her stood a female being, robed in white, radiant and delicate, that lit up the cold expanse, like moonlight upon winter snow.

It felt familiar to Yukihime, but she didn’t know why.

Another being approached the first. This one was male, taller and darker, wreathed in black, his long hair trailing in the air like a flame. He too was familiar to Yukihime, and she still couldn’t figure out why. He extended his hand out to the figure in white, and she took it in turn; and suddenly, Yukihime was swept up in a gust of ice and snow.

The two beings, black and white, danced over the surface of the world, and the girl, drifting in the wind, saw the dark clouds dissipate, revealing the bright, hot light of the sun. The sun burned away the ocean, giving way to dry land; the land was filled with green trees and plants, and the zephyr that carried the girl whistled and sang as it rushed through the foliage. And as Yukihime followed the waltz of the mysterious entities, she could feel a certain warmth all around her. She grinned and laughed at the comfort it brought.

It felt like love.

It felt like an embrace from her –

 

The scene changed, and Yukihime found herself in pure chaos.

Tall, strong men in shining armor were rushing past her, carrying large shields emblazoned with emblems. They charged with spears and swords against a mass of enemies, stabbing, slicing tearing through flesh and bone. Blood spilled before her. Battle-cries echoed in her ears. Her heart was racing, panicking, her countenance frantic. She tried to run away. Everything was madness.

Then she heard a familiar voice. A tall man, like the being she saw before, stormed towards the enemies. Upon his shield was a sun and moon. Another man, taller, lithe and limber raced with him, long dark hair cascading from his regal helmet. He too was vaguely familiar.

The enemies they faced stood no chance against the men, and they were stabbed and hacked to death. Foe after foe fell, bleeding, death rattles emanating from bloodied throats. Yukihime felt sick, but her horror would not cease. Then another set of opponents appeared. They were different, somehow – more vicious, wild, like untamed dogs. An unstable pause lingered in the air between the enemies and the armored duo as they faced each other down; then the battle began.

In a blur of brutality, the man with the shield of sun and moon had fallen, his throat cut and bleeding, his abdomen pierced through by blades. The regal man cried out his name, and consumed by rage, slaughtered the vicious slayers.

Yukihime covered her mouth with her hand in abject horror, her eyes wide and tearful. She ran to the dying man. She could see his face and the light fading from his eyes. It was a face she knew well. It was –

_Papa?_

 

The nightmare knew no end. The scenery continued to change.

The little girl saw before her different scenarios and endless suffering; plague, illness, murder, longing; once in a village wracked by death; another in an English moor; another in an ancient town. Again and again, she saw people with the faces of her father and mother in terrible agony and hardship, denied the chance to feel the warmth she had felt when the beings of black and white danced across the Earth.

She cried out for her mother and father, every time she saw their faces, and every time, the scenery would change into a blur. Nothing was sacred. Nothing was permanent.

Yukihime’s heart broke, time after time.

 

And then she opened her eyes.

The sun was out, and her room was filled with light and the comforts of home. Beneath the floor, she could hear the familiar sounds of breakfast – a whistling teapot, a humming microwave. Still clutching her little bunny doll, and desperate for relief, she climbed out of bed and went downstairs. Perhaps she could get some cereal and milk, maybe a hug from Papa and a kiss from Mama, and everything would be all right.

When she toddled into the kitchen, she found her father sitting at the little square breakfast table. “Papa?” she asked. “I’m scared.”

Her father stared down at her in complete confusion. “Um, I’m sorry, kid. You might have me confused. I’m not your dad.”

Yukihime’s eyes widened in shock.

That could not be.

She shared her father’s orange hair and one of his brown eyes – the other being purple, like her mother’s. She had freckles dotting her cheeks and her mother’s overbite.

This can’t be right.

“I’m not sure why you’re here,” her father continued, slightly nervous, “but I’ll try to help you out. My wife will be here in a bit.” He called down the hall. “Honey? Could you help me out? I’m in a bind here.”

The person that appeared to help was not Yukihime’s mother. She had long, flowing auburn hair, an ample chest and curvy hips wrapped into an apron, and large, doe-like eyes. In her arms was a fussy boy, hair just as orange as his father’s, and a red, pouty face. He resembled her, but Yukihime did not have a brother.

“Oh! Well, hello there, little girl. Are you lost? Maybe you should have something to eat before we figure out where you came from. What would you like to have?” the woman asked in a light, lilting voice. She too, was just as puzzled as her husband as to Yukihime’s appearance.

The little girl’s heart thumped against her chest. Her wide eyes brimmed over with tears.

This was absolutely _wrong._ This woman was not her mother, with her low, dulcet voice, short stature, violet eyes, and dark hair. The man sitting at the table was not her father, no matter how much she recognized him. The distinctive orange hair, chiseled chin and tall height meant _Papa,_ but in his deep brown eyes there was no warmth for her, only doubt.

This was not her family. This was not her home.

Yukihime finally burst into tears, overcome with despair.

 

* * *

 

 

What broke Ichigo out of his reverie was the pattering of feet down the hall and a sharp, piercing wail as the door burst open. Rukia’s eyes shot open at the sound.

Yukihime was reduced to incoherent babbling and snot-filled, red-faced terror, clinging to her bunny doll all the while. Instantly, her mother leapt out of the bed, dad following in tow, to embrace their terrified daughter as she sobbed her heart out. The nightmare was over, but it had been far too much for the little girl to take.

“It’s gonna be okay, Yuki-chan. We’re right here.” Rukia soothed as she swept the girl into her arms like a light breeze.

“It was just a bad dream. It’ll be just fine.” Ichigo added comfortingly.

“B-b-but mama…. papa…”

Rukia sat on the bed alongside Ichigo, Yukihime still in her lap, cradled in her arms. Yukihime raised her little head from her mother’s shoulder, still sniffling, wanting to get a good look at her parents.

The chiseled chin, bright orange hair and warm brown eyes of her father. The pale skin, violet eyes and night-black hair of her mother. These faces she had seen day after day were brimming with life and wore nothing but kindness and love. This was the warmth she had felt in that one fleeting moment of peace in her nightmare. From snow and sun, the earth had been grown into a lush and lovely garden, and she was sure she would grow up in just the same way. So she smiled, an innocent, simple smile of relief.

In the end, Yukihime decided to sleep with her parents. Curled up between them, under the soft sheets and beneath the light of the full moon, Yukihime felt the safest she had ever been in her life. So did her loving parents.

 

**The End**

**Author's Note:**

> Now that you're done, check out Silver's companion piece! It's soft, subdued and sweet, as befits the denouement of this little tale.  
> ( https://silverdoesthedrawing.tumblr.com/post/158654779543/visions-art-drawn-by )
> 
> Thanks for reading, and we'll see you next time!


End file.
